Friday the 13th: The Forgotten Accounts
by AvengingHunter2
Summary: For the first time in 18 years, the men and women who were part of a five-friend group staying at a renovated Camp Crystal Lake tell their story that had been previously locked away behind lock and key about the attack that claimed many lives, including one of their own, at Camp Crystal Lake. Jason Voorhees is back, and he is out for revenge.
1. meet the characters!

Though I don't typically do this, I am going to do a quick character introduction so you guys can get a better look on how they act and whatnot. I'm only going to give you vague ideas, so you guys can see exactly how they behave throughout the story. c;

Myranda Talbot - Myranda is the more 'prude' of the group, not really into things about sex and whatnot. She knows how to have fun, it's just a different kind. She can be protective of those she cares for if provoked and it takes a lot to make her want to fight.

Jonathan Bohyer - Jon is a pretty laid-back kind of guy, never really taking things too seriously. Though sometimes he acts like he doesn't give two shits about what's going on, he secretly looks out for everyone's well-being and is typically the first one to know something is wrong with someone.

Kristie McFall - preferred to be called 'Kris,' she is the kind of person who rushes into things without too much information first. She doesn't think about things too thoroughly and is a little self-centered and narcissistic when it comes to her looks. Actually hostile at first meet.

Reggie Quell - Reggie is a fairly shy, not typically the person who speaks out against the others. He likes to keep to himself and do his own thing, but he isn't hesitant when it comes to speaking his mind, even if he is a little nervous about it.

Iriscene Caester - Iris is the troublemaker and flirt of the group, and isn't afraid to openly acknowledge it. She is most definitely not the shy type and will even change in front of someone she met not a half an hour ago. Despite these traits, she is the most loyal one in the group, and has the scars to prove it.

I might as well do this right here: **I do NOT claim to own** ** _anything_** **that has to do with the Friday the 13th movie franchise, nor Jason Voorhees. The only things I claim to own are my original characters and my writing. Any likenesses or similarities to anyone in the real world is purely coincidental. Thank you.**


	2. prologue

"Test, test."

 _Click._

" _Test, test._ "

 _Click. Rewind. Record._

"Okay, the tape recorder is working just fine. Wouldn't want anything happening to our conversation, now would we Ms. Talbot?"

"No."

"Good. Now, let's get started, shall we?" A shuffle of papers and a clicking of a pen followed the man's words. "Tell me, Ms. Talbot-"

"Myranda. My name is Myranda." The blonde woman glanced up from her bowed head, but her blue-green orbs flitted to the ground once more within seconds of meeting the psychiatrist's gaze. He was an older man, probably mid-50's with ashy black hair and a large mustache detailing his upper lip. He had slight roundness to his belly, and his cheeks and hands were chubbiest of all. She herself was hunched over, forearms resting uptop her knees and her hands anxiously fiddling with one another between her legs. She didn't look up when he spoke.

"Alright - Myranda. Are you comfortable?" At this inquiry, she looked up once again, her eyes taking a full, detailed scan of the room. Small and white. Diagonal from her right, a bookshelf stood behind his cream colored plush chair, filled with books about psychiatry and other mental health studies. To her left, a black chalkboard, scribbles of words neatly written within boxes, explaining 'pathways of success' and a 'treatment ladder' of some kind. Behind that, a large, curtained window that took up a little more than half the wall. Down below her feet, an obviously worn down, chocolate brown rug covered the kind of carpet one would see in a middle school; that dull mixture of blues, greys, greens and what have you. But, the paint on the rest of the room was just... white. The walls, the ceiling, even the door was a milky hue. And it was driving her crazy.

"Exceptionally." _Lie._

"Oh, wonderful! I hoped you would be; I wouldn't want any of my patients feeling uncomfortable while in my presence." His voice held a tightly knit enthusiasm, almost sickeningly upbeat. The kind of tone that parents would use after their child just told them they used the toilet when the parent knew damn well there was no way for a kid of their size to get up there without help. "You're quite the lovely girl, you know. Very beautiful and very intelligent." She glanced back to him as he sifted through a paper or two using the tip of his thumb, before dodging his eyes as he lifted them to meet hers. She didn't respond.

"No worries. I understand some patients can be shy at first. Just few more questions, but I need you to be completely honest with me, okay? First question: are you sleeping well?"

"Yes." _Lie._

"Very good. Are you eating normally? Drinking plenty of water and exercising?"

"Yes." _Lie._

"Splendid. Are you..." He stopped mid-sentence, and watched her closely with intrigued eyes.

She had gasped, her eyes wide as they shot over to a shadow crossing by the large window. She was now sitting perfectly straight, at full attention while her fingers dug into her knees and her face draining to match the color of the room. A figure of a large man slid by, that much was obvious, but she had seen too much to not take caution. She didn't ease until the shadow fully passed and disappeared behind a brick wall. She allowed her shoulders to slump and a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding slowly escaped her mouth. She heard a pen scratching the surface of paper, and when her attention returned to the psychiatrist, she watched him write down a few notes on her file. She returned to her previous position: hunched over, and pretended nothing had just happened.

A clear of his throat continued the questionnaire. "Are you still having nightmares?"

"Ye...no. No." Almost gave it away. _God damn it, Myranda. Keep it together._

"Myranda, are you being completely honest with me?" His tone was now stern, all enthusiasm extinguished in the fact that he had caught her stutter. "Myranda, look at me. I need to see your eyes, please."

Hesitantly, painfully slow, she lifted her gaze to his, and kept it there as she emphasized every letter of her answer. "Yes." Her face stayed flat, no emotion present to express anything other than the singular word she had just spoke. _Lie. Lie. Lie._

They kept eye contact for what seemed like decades, but was merely a few seconds longer. Tension so thick it could be cut with a knife wavered in the air, and she was most definitely affected by it. So much so, she dropped her gaze first and allowed herself to watch her fingers dance anxiously amongst one another.

"Uh huh..." His voice was low, and thus a few more notes were written down. "Okay, I think we're fine to go on to the main reason why you're here with me right now." He flipped the paper over, and in the split second it took him to do so, she caught a glimpse of a wild-looking spider chart, with rectangular boxes and arrows pointing every which way. It was a mess.

"Myranda, can you state why you're here?"

"Why? You know why I'm here." Her tone was more defensive and direct now.

"I need you to personally state it for the tape. Please, Myranda."

A sigh expressed her dislike for having to answer the question at hand. "I was one of the four sole survivors of the Jason Voorhees attack at Camp Crystal Lake. June 12th through the 17th, 1998." Her voice was mildly rushed, yet had a hint of annoyance, almost as if she wanted to get it out of her as soon as possible.

"Thank you. Tell me, Myranda: what happened at Camp Crystal Lake, June 12th through the 17th of 1998?"

No response. Thirty seconds ticked by before he attempted the question again.

"Myranda, I need you to tell me what events occurred at Camp Crystal Lake, June 12th through the 17th of 1998."

No response. The psychiatrist was now visibly losing patience. Isn't it funny how that works? How a psych doctor would lose patience _before_ his patient?

"Myranda, I am going to go ahead and ask you one last time before we take a break. All I need is one simple answer; no elaboration at the moment. Just one straight answer. What happened at Camp Crystal Lake, June 12th through the 17th of 1998?"

 _What happened at Camp Crystal Lake, June 12th through the 17th of 1998?_

 _What happened at Camp Crystal Lake, June 12th through the 17th of 1998?_

 _What happened at Camp Crystal Lake, June 12th through the 17th of 1998?_

"What happened at Camp Crystal Lake, June 12th through the 17th of 1998?" She repeated his question a million times in her head, but only once verbally. She lifted her gaze, and he was visibly shocked at the now-burning hatred sparked underneath the grey embers of her emotionless facade.

"I stared death in the face. Right as he slit my best friend's throat."


	3. one

"Jesus Christ, Jonathan, put that thing out! It's clogging my breathing air." Turning around to face the curly haired teenager in the van's back seat, Myranda gave him a direct look of discontent.

"C'mon, Myr. It's just a cigarette." Taking a long draw from the infamous 'cancer stick,' he did nothing more than fix a smile on his face and blew a puff of smoke out of his nose.

"I don't give a shit if it is just a cigarette, I said put it _out_!" She suddenly reached forward without any previous indication that she was going to, and plucked the half-smoked fag out of the corner of his mouth. Then, without a heartbeat's moment, she lifted the lid off a Styrofoam cup sitting in the console and dropped the stick into the watered-down Mountain Dew. She watched it sizzle out with a dying hiss, before she replaced the lid and ignored the slightly annoyed face of Jon. She turned back around in the passenger's seat and let out a sigh.

"Wow, Myranda. Never seen you get so worked up about a cigarette before." Her best friend, Kristie spoke up from next to the now-sulking adolescent, her blonde and brown hair braided back in a fishtail style.

"My dad got lung cancer from it, remember? Smoking doesn't really sit well with me." Her voice was matter-of-fact, and nobody said anything in response, but in more of a way of apologetic grief. So, she directed her attention to the scenery rapidly passing by her window. There were trees of all sizes; short and tall, thick and skinny, dark and light. A pattern on the ground consisting dirt, grass, dirt, grass, water, then grass again. A bright blue sky with no ailments, with not even a cloud to cover the sun's prominent rays. As the terrain passed in a blur, she thought ahead to their future arrival to Camp Cedar Green.

They had all decided to go together to celebrate Kris' 18th birthday, and what better way than to rent a cabin at the popular lake? They were originally going to rent the entire place, but they could barely make renting the biggest cabin there possible, but management was nice enough to let them have the entire camp to themselves for the weekend, so long as they tolerated a quick field trip from an elementary school that would only last a few hours. Of course, they agreed.

"Hey, only a few more miles to go. It's going to be bumpy, though. Gotta take a dirt road to the camp itself." Everyone nodded to Reggie's input, and anyone in a five-mile radius could definitely feel the excitement beginning to buzz in the air. Reggie was the newest friend out of the entire group, only having met Kris last year. They got along right from the start, and it was a mere three months after initially meeting before Kris presented her new boyfriend to the rest of the group. It was quite the surprise, being she never even hinted that she had one until she had brought him along to their usual Saturday outing one day.

"Guess what else is going to be bumpy tonight?" The silky-smooth voice rose from the very back of the two benched van, belonging to none other than Iriscene. She was the group's biggest flirt, and has gone through _six_ boyfriends in the past year alone. Despite her... imperfect romance quality, she is still one of the most loyal friends and has proved it on several occasions. Sure, she had a quick to anger temper and the sassiest mouth Myranda had ever heard, but the group of friends wouldn't be the same without her in their midst.

"Couldn't guess." Jonathan responded, half sarcastically, and the rest of the young adults let out a unified chuckle. Everyone knew Jon was the next on Iriscene's list, but he shut her down every single time she tried an advance on him. A sudden jolt of the van made everyone jump, and a series of 'damn's,' 'shit's,' and a single 'ow' came from the mouths of everyone in the van.

"Sorry, there was a dip in the road that I couldn't go around." Reggie's voice held a slight apologetic tone to it, and everyone quickly put him to ease. Myranda could easily tell that Reggie was still nervous around the group, but she was sure that he was learning to become used to their ways. "Hey, look, we're here!"

Everyone seemed to crowd to the windows like a group of school children when Reggie made the announcement. Myranda leaned to the right to peer out of her window, and a wide grin crossed her face when she read the large welcoming sign to the camp. It was nicely painted on a rectangular sign, in bold green letters on a yellow background. Almost impossible to be missed.

 _Welcome to Camp Cedar Green!_

As they approached the sign to pass it, she took in the detail work on it. It seemed freshly painted, but the sign itself seemed to be... old. Like it's been there for decades before. Quite odd, but nonetheless exciting!

"Well, there's only 3 rooms in our assigned cabin, so some of us will have to bunk together." Myranda spoke aloud when she pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of paper from the binder she had brought along, which just held some paperwork such as directions, information about the Camp and what day the kids would be coming for their field trip. At this piece of information, everyone merely cast a glance at one another, unsure about who to bunk with.

"Okay... well Reggie and Kris definitely get a room together. I can bunk with... eeuuh." The tall blonde scrunched her nose and her smile turned to pursed lips, just the tiniest bit, before relaxing her facial features and tilting her head side to side in a motion of thinking. "How about... Jonathan?"

"I'm down." Jonathan responded enthusiastically, almost as if he were excited that he was going to be sharing a room with her. Upon this realization, Myr couldn't help but allow a small smile to surface on her face.

"Okay... got that written down. That means Iris, you're going to have a room all to yourself!" She watched in the rearview mirror as the dark-haired girl gave a small victory display, which consisted of an open, grinning mouth, closed eyes and the famous 'jazz hands.' This led to everyone letting out a laugh, and their laughter turned into joyous awes as they passed the front gate, and into their temporary home for the weekend.

"Damn, this place is beautiful." Kris piped up from the back, her eyebrow raised with her lips slightly parted.

"Isn't it, though? I found the pamphlet by some street gutter on Elm and typed the name of the place in the Yahoo search engine. Mom was pissed that I was using dial-up, but I needed to see what it was all about." Jon bragged with a large smile on his face, like he was to be congratulated for coming across a dirty, wet folded piece of paper. And in a way, they were all thankful he did.

"Well, guys. I don't know about you, but I'm _so_ ready to get out of this van and stretch my legs for the first time in hours!" Without wasting another second, Iris opened the van's sliding door and hopped out before Reggie could even bring the grey vehicle to a complete stop, and Myr just rolled her eyes and exchanged an amused grin with him.

"Whelp, time to go." Myranda opened her door as Reg cut off the engine, her sneakers scraping against the loose gravel and creating a crunching sound as she stepped. Everyone followed suit, and as they all went to the back of the van to retrieve their belongings, Myr raised her eyes to the sky. Her eyebrows slowly scrunched together, however, when she noticed the sky's changed appearance. On the way here, there wasn't a cloud in the sky. But now, as she looked up at it, it looked as if a storm were brewing just across the lake with grey clouds hanging in the air and a darkening light.

"Hey, blondie. I'm not carrying your stuff for you." Jon's voice knocked her out of her thoughts, and she just snickered in return.

"Right. Wouldn't want anyone to see a tough guy like you carrying a purple and pink spotted bag into camp, right?"

" _Ha-ha_." The sarcasm was obvious in his voice as she approached, and she just shook her head with a grin as she grabbed her bag out of the trunk, swung it on her shoulder, and faced the campsite with a raised chin and an anticipating smile.


End file.
